


Discreet Observation

by MintFlavoured



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Cybertronian-appreciation, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 23:39:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5804791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintFlavoured/pseuds/MintFlavoured
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Silas takes a few minutes to study his informant-to-be. Based on the scene in Operation Bumblebee: Part One. 3rd person Silas POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discreet Observation

**Author's Note:**

> I like to think if I was Silas, I would be checking out the living metal bots, too. For tactical advantages... yeah... 
> 
> (AN: I remember searching for Breakdown's weight whilst writing this and coming across something like 7 tonnes, but not too long ago I was confused by the weights in the IDW guide which were much more - but also much more likely, thus I changed the pitiful 7 tonnes).

 

Leland ‘Silas’ Bishop was rarely startled. It was a trait he conditioned into himself since his time with the US Army, and a trait he had surreptitiously prided himself on since. Abrupt situations were met with swift, instinctual action and the apropos expertise he had accumulated since; the twitching mechanism had been replaced long ago.

That laugh, however, sent his body tightening, reacting instantly; primal survival drives overriding his carefully disciplined psyche. For this instance, he couldn’t begrudge his body for its response, for it was no ordinary laugh.

The sound echoed through the hangar, haunting his eardrums with an alien resonance before it quickly dissipated. Silas had already spun around to the intruder, muscles taut, body coiled in preparation for action. His men had been equally surprised.

There, smirking from the gap of the hangar access, stood the silhouette of a towering creature, a pair of burning red lights piercing the darkness. _Eyes… no, optics,_ Silas corrected himself. A menacingly sharp set of claws curled around the hydraulic-operated door panel and slid it open with a scraping of metal, effortless. Like it was nothing.

Silas would later berate himself for his stupor, his team caught unawares and momentarily immobile. How had this behemoth evaded their exterior security? Where was the proximity alarms designed to detect these dangerous aliens? There were strict protocols to ensure _this_ could never occur, and yet here it was, peering into MECH’s secret location with not a trip of the alarms.

“ _You_ are the ones who turned poor Breakdown into a pitiful science experiment?” It spoke; a voice deep and gravelly, dripping with contempt and snide amusement. In human understanding it sounded male, much like most of the other ETs MECH had encountered thus far, but Silas would not assign a gender to these walking machines. They were not organic, and as such had no such rights to biological identifications. Metal didn’t have entitlements.

It strutted audaciously into the hangar, smirking at him as it pushed away the rotor blades of the helicopter in its way, halting a good distance from the Colonel so it could stare down at him easily.

“Didn’t learn much from the experience, did you?”

Broken from their arrested surprise, Silas’ troops came to life with a chorus of ominous clicks as gun safeties were quickly disabled. In the blink of an eye the Cybertronian’s form was targeted with numerous red laser sights. The metal creature looked down at them curiously, suspiciously, clawed hands turning over to inspect the beams of light trained on it. Red optics narrowed down at the sources.

“Enough to know where the soft spots are,” Silas answered threateningly, eyes glowering into those ocular mimicries. Peripheral vision picked up the unmistakable relief of a design adorning the chest panel. “Deceptacon.”

“Oh, please,” it drawled with distaste, gesticulating with uncanny similarities to human kinesics. It may not have been the first ‘bot’ MECH had interacted with, but their mannerisms still fascinated Silas despite their various encounters. Each one of them had displayed individual personalities. “I am no longer affiliated with that entity,” it continued, words accompanied with lazy hand gestures. It seemed somewhat more physically expressive than the other Cybertronians, and as Silas subconsciously noted, perhaps because it was yet another different ‘race’ within this alien’s species; a different ‘frame’ type. It lifted his palms in an altogether human shrug and added, “besides, if I were here to avenge the big lug, you would be screaming for mercy by now…”

Silas didn’t miss a beat. “Why _are_ you here?”

“To propose an alliance,” it announced just as readily. “You see, we have much more in common than you might think. And I am not merely referring to –” it turned its face to display the thin gouge beneath its right optic, a look of dark humor turning up its sneer “– our battle scars.”

Silas never once wavered from its glowing red lights, but the urge for his gaze to stray was not as disciplined as it should have been. Since the discovery of these living metal beings, every waking moment had been consumed with the desire to know _more_. The need to know _how_. They were miracles walking upon the earth and MECH must be the organization to uncover their secrets, to harness their power. The potential advancements from this technology were limitless. Sufficive to say, Silas was not only intrigued by the aliens, he was damn near obsessed with them. Each encounter brought him new information, new insight into this giant species. And here stood another new model for him to study. With the exception of Airachnid, the previous Cybertronians were ground-based and similar in frames. This one was different. This one was clearly a flyer. Its body had been designed for speed, evidenced by the streamlined bodywork and the shapely contours, not to mention a pair of rather large wings sprouting from its back. A noticeable difference compared to the bulkier form of Breakdown.

“What could I possibly gain from such an arrangement?” Silas demanded. Despite his suspicion and doubt, his curiosity had been piqued.

The Cybertronian leveled a disconcerting and quite frankly alarmingly wicked expression on him. His red optics shone too bright in the dim lighting of the hangar and the smirk twisting at his face plate sent something both unpleasant and stimulating crawling up his spine.

“Insider knowledge,” it enunciated each word.

Silas froze. Split second excitement coursed through him and possibilities for such valuable information steamrolled into his mind, and in the space of the following second he had made, quite easily, the quickest decision in his recent life. Greed overcame his caution by a marginal edge, but this opportunity had presented itself to him, and he would be a fool to refuse a willing consultant over another unwilling captive. Breakdown’s dissection had relented physical details but nothing else, and Airachnid had revealed even less. This flying bot was offering otherwise unobtainable intelligence about its own kind, to an organization that opposed not just its rival faction, but its _own_ – former – faction, too. Had it gone neutral? And if so, to what price would this creature demand in return?

Lifting a hand, Silas signaled his men to stand down. The sight scopes disappeared, and the flyer watched with offhand interest before setting its optics on Silas again.

“Wise choice,” it drawled.

 _We will see,_ Silas thought.

“Now,” it lifted a gestural clawed hand as it began to tread forward, right down to business. “A t-cog isn’t technology… it is _biology_.”

As it approached Silas’ position, its footfalls thudded surprisingly lightly for a creature of such size, prompting the Colonel’s curious mind to ponder how heavy a flyer type bot would be. Breakdown, for all his bulk, had weighed in at approximately twenty seven tons, and from the brief observation of his fight with the green Autobot, it had sounded like it, too.

“…Which means it will reject any power source… other than Energon…” It continued informatively.

Silas craned his neck back to watch it walk, unable to ignore the urge to study. His eyes roved across the closer details as, unwittingly, it gave him a decent view of its overall anatomy. To say he was no longer impressed with these aliens would be a lie, each one was unique, and this one obviously so. It stooped very slightly as it sauntered, a posture no doubt adopted to compensate for the weight of those very large wings. If Silas had to guess, he would estimate each span around three meters, and if he had to critique, he would argue evolution did it a minor injustice by exposing them so cumbersomely. But, perhaps they were not a liability as first impressions suggest. They bounced softly with each foot step, suggesting they were not fixed to a stationary position in this humanoid form. They were also very reminiscent of the US Airforce’s F-16 Fighting Falcon, and he wouldn’t be surprised if that was its chosen Earth form. Or some variation of. This, of which, could lead him to all manner of questions and guesses as to why these aliens choose ground or air based modes. Maybe he would have his answers soon.

Multitasking was a must for a soldier, consequently Silas set half a mind focusing on its verbal information and the other half absorbed in its physical information. The ground tremored slightly as it passed him, and Silas was unable to resist marveling at its true height. Titans indeed. Everything about this one was sharp and sleek, with obvious jet accouterments. Unlike the colossal form of Breakdown, this one’s limbs were slender, not segmented with boxy panels and…were those heels?

Silas turned as it approached the mounted automaton that MECH had previously been attempting to activate. The t-cog they had ‘acquired’ from the one called Bumblebee had proven unsuccessful in their attempts only minutes ago. This one’s timely intrusion had apparently been planned after spying MECH’s cut-and-run.

“Go on,” Silas encouraged, temporarily placated with this new crucial fact. He swept his gaze across the expanse of wings jutting from the former Deceptacon’s back. Between them, flush to its spine, was what looked like the cylindrical engine casing of a fighter jet. Interestingly, Silas could make out vertebrae-like struts lining its thin frame for a short strip. A potential weak point or merely a design aspect? The bot’s body was decorated with numerous thin, delicate plating edges, and despite logging away visible joint accesses, the detail appreciation was not lost on the Colonel. Machines in any form were striking, even those from another planet.

“Energon is the fuel,” the flyer continued, claws accompanied his words. “The ammunition. And the life blood of all Cybertronians.” It came to a stop before the inert shell and twisted to glance at Silas behind. “Whatever their affiliation,” it added in a low intonation. Silas wondered if it was assessing him in the same way he was reviewing it. Something with advanced processors would surely put human multitasking to shame. It turned to face him fully, wings catching the illumination from the hangar’s spotlight. “You and I both want it, and currently I lack the means of locating it.”

It was fascinating just how human this metal creature spoke and behaved. Silas had long since begun the investigation into whether or not they assimilated this peculiarity, or had been preprogramed with behavioral subroutines when they were created. However _that_ happened. As tempting as it was to incapacitate this flyer and cut open its secrets, it was much _more_ valuable to him as an informant.

“But once I supply you with –” it paused to demonstrate its deadly sharp claws by scoring a wound into its other hand, drawing forth a glowing blue globule of its blood “– the particulars of its chemical makeup…”

Silas and his troops watched intently as the bot deposited the substance into their creations heart chamber. Almost instantly the inner cavity pulsed with blue light, reacting positively to the Energon. Silas was captivated.

“We can utilize your considerable resources to devise a means of detecting new deposits,” the flyer said, gazing up at the new life. Silas wondered how it viewed such a crude imitation of its kind. Was it like looking at Frankenstein? It cast another wry glance over its shoulder at the Colonel, and whatever opinion it might have had was well masked. “For us to share.”

“ _If_ the supply meets MECHs rather significant demand,” Silas stated meaningfully.

The flyer turned around again at this, its optics twinkled with intrigue. “Aaah,” it uttered. “Intending to build an army, are you?”

Silas merely narrowed his eyes a fraction. If these aliens had integrated human nature into their own it would easily interpret his silence.

This only seemed to encourage the bot. “I am no stranger to ambition,” it declared portentously. A look of devious cunning crossed its mechanical features, its optics seemed to glow even brighter, white pupils contracting with keen intent. Silas was needlessly reminded that this was a dangerous, unpredictable monster.

But even monsters would eventually lose their advantage…


End file.
